


I'm all alone (and I need you now)

by breakthesewallsdown



Category: Sanvers - Fandom, Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Maggie POV, Sanvers is endgame, alex will be there in chapter II, chapter one is angst, just maggie being really sad, maggie and alex are soulmates, only maggie, they will have their happy ending dont worry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-01-28 03:12:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12596880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakthesewallsdown/pseuds/breakthesewallsdown
Summary: Alex will find someone who'll want to give her kids. And a dog. And Maggie can't help but wonder if Alex will still want to name it Gertrude.Or if the name will remind her too much of Maggie, ofthem. Of what they had and of what they could have had. Of what they lost.





	1. the hurting

**Author's Note:**

> Basically just 4k words of Maggie being heartbroken. 
> 
> I'm sorry.
> 
> (Based on Lady Antebellum's Need You Now)  
> (also fuck the SG writers)

Maggie's never been the person to hold onto memories. 

She's never held onto gifts she received from her ex-girlfriends. She's never deemed it important to save their selfies on her phone, or cute candids she took back in the day. She always gave them their comfiest sweater back- the one she stole after she stayed over the first time. 

She just didn't think it was important. Or important _enough_. 

But now, as she looks at the polaroids scattered around the floor, she wishes she'd taken more. More of Alex sleeping. More of Alex dreamily staring outside. More of Alex in bed, her hair a mess with Maggie straddling her hips, a lazy smile on her girlfriend's face. 

Her phone's on the floor too. On the screen there's a selfie of the two of them, Alex's eyes sparkling as Maggie kisses her cheek. They're both smiling. Maggie can't look at it without wanting to cry. 

She grabs her phone and locks it, because looking at it hurts. 

The polaroids, though. Those, she doesn't bother cleaning up. It's like they're staring back at her, poking her open wounds, pouring salt in her cuts – just making it worse. But she can't put them away. 

She feels like she's been staring at them for hours.Which she probably has – but it's never long enough. Just like her time with Alex. Just.. wasn't long enough. 

But their time apart has been too long. Too much. 

It's been a little over three months since they separated. Maggie still can't believe it. They were so close. _So. Close_. Their wedding was only a few weeks away and they'd even picked the cake already. She doesn't get it. But Alex thought it was for the better and who's Maggie to take that away from her? 

Maggie's gaze lands on one polaroid in particular. 

It's one of their hands, tangled together, their engagement rings shining brightly. It breaks her heart, because they picked them out together. After Alex's spontaneous proposal. First they made love, the whole night, and the morning after they called in sick for work to go pick out rings. 

Maggie smiles softly at the memory. 

She sips from her scotch and sighs, wiping her eyes. She's gotten used to the tears. So used that she doesn't even really notice them anymore, until her cheeks are wet and they're dropping off her chin. 

She misses Alex. 

She misses her so much that she can't even breathe. She still sleeps on the left side of her bed, even though she sleeps alone and it isn't even Alex's bed, like she's used to. She can't sleep on the right. Or in the middle. 

Maggie sleeps on the left, on her side, with her arm stretched out – reaching for Alex. 

But Alex isn't there. 

Maggie won't wake up with Alex pressed close to her. She won't wake up to see Alex gazing softly at her, that sleepy smile on her face as her finger strokes Maggie's cheek. She won't wake up in the middle of the night to find Alex with her hands clutched in Maggie's shirt and her face pressed to her neck. 

Maggie wakes up alone. In a bed that's way too big, way too cold and way too empty. 

Maggie wakes up without Alex. 

Maggie wakes up _alone_. 

Alone, like she's always been. So she should be used to it, really. She's been alone most of her life. Moving to Gotham, she didn't really have any friends there. No one thought she was worth getting to know. So she did her job, had occasional hook-ups, and that's it. She never thought her life would change too much by moving to National City. 

She never thought she'd get a girlfriend – a fiancée – and friends. A family. She never thought Eliza would be this kind to her, this warm. This _motherly_. She never thought she'd get friends like Winn and James, who had her back to matter what. Friends like Kara, who she may have had some issues with, but at the end of the day they get along perfectly and Maggie knew she could always count on her. 

And Alex. 

Maggie never thought she'd be lucky enough to have someone like Alex in her life. Alex was her girlfriend, yes. But most importantly, Alex was her best friend. Her rock. Even before they started dating Maggie felt like she could talk to Alex about anything, could confide in her. Alex was her home, her family. The family that she _chose_. 

The family that chose her. 

And she misses her. So much. She misses Alex's teasing remarks about how tiny she is. Misses Alex randomly putting pictures of bonsai trees around the apartment, because for some reason they always make Maggie smile. Maggie misses how Alex used to wake her up in the morning; soft hands stroking her face, her arms, her back. Soft kisses pressed to her cheeks, her forehead, her temple. 

Maggie misses how Alex used to complain about how Maggie prefered her food – the bagel, the vegan ice cream, the coffee. 

_"Honey, Maggie, really?"_

She misses Alex's grumpy moods and how it just took Maggie massaging her back and her neck softly to make her feel better. How all Maggie had to do was be close to her, hold her and touch her and things would get better. How Alex acted all tough and badass around everyone else, but as soon as she looked at Maggie her gaze softened and her smile stretched and God Maggie was so in love with the way Alex looked at her. With the way Alex said her name. With her.

Maggie thinks she'll aways be in love with her. 

Alex will always have her heart. She kind of hates herself for how cliché it sounds. And, honestly, she never thought she'd ever feel like this. Feel this strongly for someone – feel like she'd collapse without them. But she does. She did. She collapsed. 

And she can't get back up. 

Because she's lost Alex and Alex is gone. And she doesn't know what to do. It's been three months and she hasn't made any effort yet. For anything. She goes to work, but she bails on any cases with any aliens involved and sends her guys to cases with the DEO. 

She can't do it. 

Everything is too much and not enough. She needs more distractions, but she's not sure they're still distractions if they still remind her of Alex. Everything in National City reminds her of Alex. Reminds her of _them_ and of what they had. They're a bittersweet reminder of what Maggie lost. 

And she just misses Alex. Misses her voice most of all. Misses the late night phone calls, misses the facetiming, misses the texts. Misses being able to just ring her when she missed her, when she wanted to hear her voice. 

Now she wants to hear Alex's voice but all she can do is sit there, staring at her contact info, wondering if it'd be that bad if she _did_ call Alex. Just this once. 

Wondering if Alex thinks about her as well. If Alex misses her, too. She wonders if Alex's breath hitches when she hears there's going to be NCPD at a crime scene, wonders if Alex is disappointed when she sees Maggie's not there. She wonders if Alex also avoids the places they used to go for lunch. For dinner. For breakfast.

She wonders if Alex sleeps on the right side of her bed. 

Maggie wonders if Alex still has Maggie's hockey jersey. Wonders if she still wears it to sleep in. Wonders if Alex still remembers that Maggie bought it three sizes too big, on purpose, so it'd even still be too big on Alex. 

Because Maggie can't stop thinking about it. About any of it. About Alex, about everything they did, everything they still wanted to do. About the dogs they saw at the shelter when they went to check them out, went to see which one they'd like to adopt. 

Which one would fit the name Gertrude. 

Because, yes, Maggie thought it was a hideous name, but she'd do everything and anything for Alex. Even name their dog Gertrude and not make a big fuss out of it. 

She stares back at her screen, Alex's name making her heart ache, tears welling up in her eyes. It's a quarter after one and all she can think about is calling Alex, just to hear her voice. Or, they don't even have to talk. She just wants to know Alex is _there_. 

Because knowing Alex is there and not talking to her is still better than Alex not being there at all. 

It's a quarter after one and Maggie's thumb hovers over the _call_ button. She's so close to saying _fuck it_ and just pressing the button, just calling her ex-girlfriend. Her _ex-fiancée_. But she can't. She won't. She can't do that to herself and she can't do that to Alex. 

She's been without Alex for so long now. She can keep going without Alex. 

No matter how much it hurts. No matter how much she'd rather evaporate into thin air. Everything would be better than suffer through this pain, suffer through not being with Alex. 

Maggie's not even sure what hurts the most. 

Losing Alex or not being enough once again. 

Or both.

Because, honestly, she's gotten used to not being good enough. She's never been good enough. Not for her parents, not for the friends she used to have, not for ex-girlfriends. Always too busy working, too stubborn, too distant, too detached. 

With Alex she finally hoped she'd be enough. Just this once. Because she let herself fall in love with Alex. Even though she knew first relationships don't work out, she thought Alex was worth the risk. Alex was worth getting hurt for. So she let herself fall and gave herself to Alex. All of her. She opened up and she tried. 

She tried to be with Alex as much as possible. Tried to be good. Tried to be enough. And she really thought she was. Because Alex loved her and Alex proposed to her and Alex wanted to get a dog and a house with her. Alex wanted to marry her. 

And then.. _nothing_. 

Maggie just wasn't enough. Because Alex wanted kids. Wanted all these experiences that Maggie just couldn't give her. Maggie would never be able to give her any of that. And she hates herself for it. Alex only deserves the best. Alex deserves to be happy and she deserves to live a full and happy life. 

Maggie just wishes she could be a part of that. 

She wishes she'd be good enough to be a part of that.

But she doesn't want kids and she'd never hold Alex back from going after what she wants. And Maggie knows Alex loves her – loved her – but it just wasn't enough. Because Alex wants more. And her want for children was bigger than her want for Maggie. 

And it stings. 

Because once again she's not as wanted as she'd wish to be. There's always things better than her, things that are more promising. Maggie should've known. She should've pulled through with her thought that relationships with people fresh off the boat never work out. 

Alex should've figured this all out for herself. 

Maggie can't believe she let herself go like this. Can't believe she gave her all to Alex just for it to be thrown in the trash. It hurts so much to know that whatever she could've done, it still wouldn't have been enough to make Alex happy. 

All Maggie can do now is hope Alex finds someone who can give her what she deserves. Finds someone who will love her like Maggie loves her. Like Maggie will always love her. 

She wipes her eyes before pouring herself another glass of whiskey. She's kinda lost count on how many she's had tonight; or the past couple of nights, really. But she doesn't really care. She just needs the pain to go away.

She just wants to find that one thing that'll make the hurting stop, that'll make everything better for a while. 

But the only time she doesn't feel the pain is when she's asleep. And even then she still dreams of soft brown eyes staring into hers and strong hands cupping her cheeks as she's being kissed. And then she wakes up and she _cries_. 

She cries because she's on the left side of her bed, alone and cold and all she wants to do is roll over into Alex's side and hold her close until the memories of her bad dream leave her alone. But she can't, because Alex isn't there. 

Alex won't be there anymore. Ever. 

She won't come home from work and kiss Maggie. She won't crawl into bed next to her and wrap her up in her arms while she whispers sweet _I love you_ 's. She won't knock on Maggie's front door telling her she loves her, because it just isn't enough. 

Loving each other isn't enough. 

Maggie can't put into words how much she wants Alex to come knocking on her front door. To tell her she misses her and that she loves her and that she's _enough_. That living her life with Maggie would be more than she could ever ask for and that she's sorry for letting her go. All she wants is for Alex to come back to her, to grow old with her. 

But that's selfish. 

And Maggie's never been selfish. Especially not when Alex is involved. She'd give up everything for her, just so she'd be happy. Just so she'd have everything that she needs- everything that she wants. Because Alex Danvers only deserves to be happy. 

Alex has always pushed her own wants and needs back for the people she loves. First for her mother and Kara. Then for Maggie when she came in the picture. But Maggie wouldn't let her push this back. Wanting kids is too big, it's too important. More important than Maggie's feelings and Maggie's heart. 

She knows that. 

She knows Alex tried to let it go. She know Alex wanted to be okay with not having kids, with just having Maggie. But she also understands Alex couldn't. She understands that Alex's wish to have children is bigger than anything else she's ever encountered. And she hates herself for ruining that. Because Alex saw herself being a mom with her. With Maggie. She pictured them together as a family with a kid and a dog. 

Going trick or treating on Halloween. Spending Christmas together. Comforting their kid when they had a bad dream. Going camping. Dropping them off on first days of school. Helping them get over their first heartbreak. Giving them tips on how to flirt, maybe, if they'd come to ask for help. 

Making them feel comfortable enough to talk to them about everything. 

And, honestly, Maggie could see that for Alex. It seems so natural. 

She's just never pictured it for herself. She doesn't know if she _can_. She's thought about it. Especially these last few weeks. Because not being with Alex does things to her and she considered it, for a minute. Wanting kids. But it makes her feel sick and it just doesn't feel right. 

She doesn't know why she doesn't want them. She hates herself for it, wishes she _did_ want them so she could be with Alex. So she could make Alex happy. Because now Alex will move on and find someone else, someone who will love her and cherish her and appreciate her, just like Maggie did. Like Maggie still does, from afar. 

Alex will find someone who'll want to give her kids. And a dog. And Maggie can't help but wonder if Alex will still want to name it Gertrude. 

Or if the name will remind her too much of Maggie, of _them_. Of what they had and of what they could have had. Of what they lost.

Maggie sighs and gets up from the couch. She steps over the polaroids on the floor, glass of whiskey still in her hand, and makes her way towards some of the – still unpacked – boxes in the middle of her living room. Because, even though Maggie's lived here before, it doesn't feel like home. And unpacking these boxes means it'd have to be. 

Meanwhile her _home_ is somewhere else in National City doing God knows what. Maggie just wishes she still thinks about her sometimes. But for Alex's sake she hopes she moves on from Maggie soon. 

Maggie sighs as she drops to her knees and puts her glass on the floor next to her, before grabbing one of the boxes and opening it. She sighs. It's filled with some of her books, some sweaters and- 

What.

Maggie reaches for the orange piece of clothing, hands shaking and eyes filled with a fresh wave of tears. Because _no_. It couldn't be, right? She didn't put it there. She wouldn't. She _couldn't_. But it's right there. It looks like someone just shoved it in there, really quickly. Because Maggie had folded all the clothes she put in there. She's sure of it. 

And yes, she's looked at the shirt. Considered taking it, even. But it's Alex's and she couldn't bring herself to do it. But apparently Alex wanted her to have it. So Maggie grabs the shirt with both hands and unfolds it. _Hello sunshine._

Maggie can't stop the sob wrecking her body. She clenches the shirt in both fists and holds it against her chest, tries her best to stop crying, but she can't help but imagine Alex stuffing the shirt inside the box. Can't imagine what Alex must've been thinking. 

And she wants to call Alex again. Wants to ask her why she gave her the shirt, why she had to hurt her like this, why she felt the need to torture her even more. Wants to call her and say _thank you_ , because she loves that shirt more than anything, loves the memories she has with it even more. 

She wants to call Alex and yell at her, _cry_ , ask her to try again. Ask her to make it work, to fight for them. Fight for her. Ask her why she's not good enough, why she's never been good enough. Ask her if she's happy now, if she's moving on. 

Maggie wants to ask her if she misses her. If Alex is hurting just as much as she is, if her heart aches just as bad whenever someone mentions Maggie. _If_ someone still mentions Maggie. 

Her hand absentmindedly reaches for her phone again. She goes back to their texts. Reads their last ones. Over and over and over again. Scrolls back up to better times. She can't help but cry again. 

Her hands start to type and she can't stop them. 

_I miss you._

_I can't do this without you._

_Come back to me._

_I need you._

_Why wasn't I enough._

_I love you more than I've ever loved anyone._

She ends up deleting all of them. She ends up locking her phone.

She ends up pouring herself another glass of whiskey. 

She knows she shouldn't. She should put the alcohol down and go to bed and hopefully she'll feel better in the morning. But she's been telling herself she'll feel better for weeks – _months_ – now and it just never happens. She only ends up feeling worse. 

She feels miserable and awful. She just wants to disappear for a while, to get herself together and get over everything and to move on. She doesn't want to feel this anymore. She doesn't want to hurt over this. She doesn't want to think of Alex and feel like she's choking on air, feels like her insides are burning her alive, because her body aches for Alex but Alex isn't there. 

Maggie doesn't want to be without Alex. She doesn't want to _have to be_ without her. 

She can't imagine her life without Alex in it and now having to live it without her is the worst she could've imagined for herself. She never thought she'd end up alone again. Never thought she'd see the day where she loses everyone she cares about. 

Maggie stares at the shirt, still clutched in one of her hands. She can't look at it without starting to feel worse. She can't look at it without remembering the first morning she wore it, the first time she ever wore _anything_ that was Alex's. The first time Alex wore something that was hers. 

She can't stop thinking about any of it. She can't stop thinking about how it'd be if she was with Alex right now, how they'd be sitting on the couch, watching one of Alex's favorite shows and sharing popcorn, or eating a pizza. 

How Maggie would hold Alex, because Maggie would always end up being the big spoon. How Alex would have her arm wrapped around Maggie's waist and how she would press soft kisses to Maggie's cheek. How Alex would most likely fall asleep with her head on Maggie's chest. 

How Maggie would wake her up softly, whispering into her ear, rubbing her arms and her back. How Alex would sit up and how Maggie would turn the tv off. How she would usher Alex to bed and how she then would clean up the coffee table while Alex changes into pj's. How Maggie crawls next to Alex after changing herself and kissing her goodnight. 

Now all she can do is sit here and get into her own bed, alone. 

Maggie sighs, gets up from the floor, in her hands her glass, her phone and Alex's shirt. Her days are so empty now. They used to be filled with Alex and Kara and their friends and game nights and dinners with Eliza. Now all Maggie has left is.. herself. 

She can't stop herself from letting tears slip as she gets ready for bed. She puts her glass on the left bedside table, drops her phone on the left pillow. As she undresses herself, she can't help but think about the last time Alex did it. 

How soft she was as she tugged Maggie's shirt over her head, how they laughed when Maggie's pants got stuck around her ankles and how she kissed her while handing her some pajama's. 

Maggie cries. 

She puts on Alex's shirt and she cries, because it feels like Alex and somehow it smells like Alex and everything around her is Alex, Alex, _Alex_. But Alex isn't there and Maggie feels so lonely. She feels like crawling out of her own skin as she gets into bed. The shirt feels too big, but too small all at once and it just doesn't feel right. 

She can't help but think about Alex. If she'd be asleep by now or if she's also still up thinking about her. Thinking about Maggie and how much she misses her. If she misses her. Maggie would like to think she does, but everything is messing with her head and she can't stop herself from believing Alex is better off without her and is happy now, finally. 

She's telling herself that she could've never made Alex happy. That it was all temporarily. That Alex was just still figuring herself out and that this was bound to happen. Alex would realize Maggie wasn't _it_ for her and she'd let her go and move on. 

But another part of Maggie doesn't want to believe any of it. She has to believe Alex loves her, has loved her, because at least that thought makes this a little more bearable. Because knowing Alex has loved her makes it easier for her to think she can be loved again, maybe. Even though even just thinking about loving anyone else makes her feel sick to her stomach. Maggie can't think about herself being with someone else. Not yet and probably not for a very long time. 

Which is different. 

Because after every other break-up she's had before she's had it so easy with moving on. She'd hook up with the first woman that showed the slightest bit of interest, maybe twice, and that'd be it. The only person she'd ever had a little more trouble getting over was Emily, but that was only because they've been together for so long. She didn't love Emily like she loves Alex. She will never love anyone like she loves Alex. 

She can't stop crying. 

She's been crying for hours now and she feels annoyed with herself, because she hasn't cried for days. She thought she was doing okay, maybe getting it a little easier. Joke's on her. 

Maggie grabs her phone for the third or fourth time that night, unlocks it and looks at Alex's contact info once more. The urge to call her too big. It's almost 2PM and she shouldn't. She really shouldn't. 

But she can't help herself and presses _call mobile_.


	2. the healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because she really can't see herself loving someone else. She'll always compare. Maggie will always compare their eyes to Alex's. She'll always compare their habits and how Alex took her coffee instead. She'll think about how Alex wore her jackets, how Alex ran her hand through her hair and how Alex prepared Maggie's breakfast instead. 
> 
> She'll compare everything to how Alex made her feel, how Alex treated her, how Alex looked at her. And it just really fucking sucks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because screw canon, right? 
> 
> also I changed it from a 2 chapter fic into a 3 chapter fic, because it seemed more fitting. also secretly maybe because I started writing and things got a liiiittle out of hand. and now I can pour all the fluff in chapter 3, because it's what we deserve.
> 
> (un-beta'd so all mistakes are mine and I was too lazy to read this more than once because it's late and I put off posting fics until I go to bed, but am also too excited to wait until tomorrow)

It's been a few weeks since Maggie drunk dialed Alex. 

She still wants to disappear into a hole in the ground whenever she thinks about it. Luckily for her, Alex was asleep and missed the call. But as soon as Maggie had heard Alex' voice on her voice-mail, she'd broken down in tears once again. 

She hung up before the beep. 

She hasn't heard from Alex since. No calls. No text, asking her if everything is alright. She's not sure what to make of it. Because, yeah, of course, they broke up. But if Alex were to call her in the middle of the night the least Maggie would do is ask her if everything's okay. Or if she wants to talk about something. Anything. 

But that's Maggie. 

Alex made a decision and apparently she's bound to not let anything distract her from it. So Maggie went back to her old ways of avoiding the DEO and drinking scotch alone on her couch at night. She kept herself from reaching out to Alex, luckily. 

She doesn't really talk to anybody anymore. Fair enough, at work she has conversations and her colleagues sometimes make her laugh. But it's not the same. Because four hours later she leaves the precinct and the smile drops from her face and she just feels empty. 

Maggie used to be full of energy, she used to be all smiles. Now all she has is frowns and a lump in her throat whenever she sees something that reminds her of Alex. Which is a lot. Because this is still National City and basically everything here reminds her of Alex. 

Everything, everywhere, reminds her of Alex. She doesn't even have to be doing anything. She could just be on her couch watching Discovery Channel and find the stupidest thing that makes her think of something Alex once said. Or she could be getting lunch for her and Rob, her colleague, and see something Alex always used to order. 

The most simple things remind her of what she had and of what she lost. And she wants to get it back so, _so_ , badly, but she doesn't know how and she doesn't know if she should. Because she wants Alex to be happy. And no matter how hard she tries, she can't picture Alex being fully happy with her. Because Alex wants something Maggie can't give her and she doesn't know how to deal with that. 

So, as she's on her way home, Maggie tries not to let her eyes wander and keeps them firmly on the road as she rides her bike. Back to her apartment. It's pathetic, really, how she always tries her best to _not_ be home. She goes to a bar – not _the_ bar, just in case she runs into Alex – or goes out for dinner, or just drives around National City. She even goes for walks with the dogs at the animal shelter on her free days so she doesn't have to be home. 

At least she gets out of the house now, which is a total upgrade to a few weeks back where all she did was sleep and cry. And drink lots of alcohol. 

She thinks she's getting better. Obviously not getting anywhere closer near over Alex, but she's handling it. She doesn't wake up crying anymore. Just numb, with another crack in her heart from waking up without Alex. 

The worst part is that she doesn't know how Alex is doing. Because, yes, she talks to Eliza from time to time, but they never talk about Alex. Eliza always checks up on her, asks her how she's doing and if she's going out and getting enough sleep. Asking her about her job and how things are going. Talking to her about her last case. 

But never about Alex. 

Eliza never says anything and Maggie never asks. Because she knows she'd end up crying if she did. She doesn't deserve Eliza checking on her anyway, so she doesn't want to ruin things by talking about Alex, by asking the wrong things. 

She doesn't even know if knowing how Alex is doing would do her any good. Because if Alex isn't doing well, if she's hurting like Maggie is then she'd probably only end up feeling worse. Because she'd want to help Alex and be there for her, but Maggie's not that person anymore. 

But if Alex would be doing okay, if she'd be moving on, Maggie would shatter. She doesn't know what she'd do, if that was the case. She knows that day will come, though. The day that Alex will be moving on, will fall for someone new and she'll start a life with them. And Maggie really hopes Alex will be really, truly, happy. Because that's what she deserves. 

It just sucks that she'll stay behind. 

Because she really can't see herself loving someone else. She'll always compare. Maggie will always compare their eyes to Alex's. She'll always compare their habits and how Alex took her coffee instead. She'll think about how Alex wore her jackets, how Alex ran her hand through her hair and how Alex prepared Maggie's breakfast instead. 

She'll compare everything to how Alex made her feel, how Alex treated her, how Alex looked at her. And it just really fucking sucks. It'd be so much easier if Maggie could just move on as well. If she could meet someone tomorrow and immediately click with them – like she clicked with _Alex_ – and be happy with them. 

But everything in this town is holding her back from that. Everything here is just reminding her of what could have been, but what's not going to be. And she'd be okay with that, if it wasn't about Alex. 

Maggie really doesn't know how she let herself fall this fast, this deep, this hard. She really doesn't get it. Because, at first, she thought Alex was just another girl. Just another young woman who figured out she's not straight and who thought Maggie would be a fun one-time thing. 

But then Alex makes her see that, maybe, she really does have actual, real, feelings for her and Maggie lets herself fall. She lets herself be vulnerable and lets herself _want_. And everything was great, because in the end Alex proposed and Maggie thought, _yes, this is it_. 

And it is. It was. Alex really was _it_ , for Maggie. Everything she'd ever want, and need, and more. Everything she ever hoped for, everything she didn't even know she was missing. And she saw their life together. Full, rich, amazing. Happy. 

Just not how Alex saw it, apparently. And it still stings, the knowledge that she's not enough. But she can't blame Alex. Not really. 

She just wishes she could be okay. Even just for a day. 

But, _hah_ , joke's on her. Because whenever she thinks she's having a better day she sees Winn across the street, probably on his way to the DEO. Or she hears her name somewhere, _randomly_ , while walking past a stranger. Or she hears their song on her way to work. Or she smells Alex's perfume somewhere. 

It's always, _always_ , Alex. 

 

•••

 

She's trying. 

She really is. And she's getting there. She's getting attention from women and she smiles at them. She doesn't go in on their offer to share the bed, or even to get their number, and it still stings whenever someone tells her she looks beautiful. Because Alex used to tell her that, softly, in her ear, just seconds after she woke up. 

But she's fine. 

I mean, it's the day before their wedding was supposed to be, but she's _fine_. 

Drinking scotch on her couch, looking at their pictures together – _again_ – but fine. Even though she feels her heart breaking all over again as she thinks about everything they were supposed to do together, all the first they were supposed to experience together. 

The vows they were supposed to recite to each other, tomorrow. They were supposed to switch their engagement rings for wedding rings, tomorrow. They were supposed to swear each other all the things Maggie thought were stupid, before she met Alex, tomorrow. They were supposed to kiss in front of all their family and friends, tomorrow. They were supposed to be _wives_. 

And now Maggie is alone and lonely and sad. But she's fine, right? That's what everyone wants her to be, needs her to be. They can't have Maggie crying, still, after all this time. They can't have her talking about Alex as if she's still waiting at home for her to come back from work. They can't have her be broken. 

So she's fine. She has to be. 

That is, until her phone rings and she sees Eliza's caller ID on her screen. Her heart stops beating for a second and she panics, not sure what to do. She hasn't spoken to Eliza in weeks, even though the woman calls her a lot to check up on her. Maggie just doesn't always pick up the phone. Not because she doesn't want to. Just because she's at work or was in the shower or asleep or feeling like she'd fall apart if she heard Eliza's voice. 

But now she's too lonely to not pick up, so she swipes and brings the phone to her ear. 

“Sawyer,” 

She can hear the sigh Eliza releases and immediately feels bad. She should've picked up the phone all these times before, too. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eliza says, voice gentle, “how are you?” 

Maggie can hear some soft music on the background and she can imagine Eliza sipping on some wine, sat on her couch. Much like Maggie right now, actually. Just happier. Content. Alone, maybe, but not lonely. 

“I'm – I don't know,” 

“How are you holding up? How's work?”

Ah, yes, Eliza. Always gets her to talk about work first so she can get into it again, so she feels more comfortable opening up. It works every time and Maggie appreciates the effort, but tonight she's not feeling it. She can't pretend that work is fine and that she is fine. Not with Eliza. 

“I don't feel like talking about work, Eliza,” she admits quietly, her glass firmly in her hand. 

Eliza is silent for a few long seconds, before she speaks, “Is there anything you _do_ want to talk about?” 

Maggie hesitates. Because, _yes_ , of course. She wants to talk about Alex. Ask if she's moved on, ask if she's okay, what she's up to. But she's not sure she wants to know the answer the day before she was supposed to get married. It'd be too painful if it's something she doesn't want to hear. 

But she has to know. And she can't stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. 

“How, uh,” she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes for a second, tears stinging, “how is she?”

“Maggie,” it's said softly, as if Maggie is going to break. 

“Eliza,” Maggie pleads, “ _please_. I know you haven't talked about her for my own good and I appreciate it. But I miss her and I just need to know if she's okay.” 

Another sigh and an even bigger silence. Maggie knows she's asking too much, but she can't help herself. She's been without Alex for too long and it's killing her. It's killing her to not know how she's doing, to not have an idea of how she's holding up. 

“She's.. managing,” Eliza then, finally, says, “She doesn't talk much, like you. Focuses on work more than she used to.” 

Maggie doesn't know if she should ask the question burning on the tip of her tongue. Knowing it could break her. But she can't stop herself. She's too far into this conversation to not go through with it. 

“Has she moved on?” 

Maggie can feel Eliza's hesitation. And the fact that she's hesitating brings tears to Maggie's eyes, because she _has_. Alex has moved on, or is at least moving on, while Maggie's still picking up her own pieces. She always knew she loved hard and deep, she just thought she wasn't the only one this time. 

“It's okay,” Maggie then says, “I'm happy for her,” 

“I don't know if she moved on, Maggie,” Eliza says carefully, “she won't really talk to me about it. I wish I could give you a clear answer, but I don't want to push her too much to talk in case it backfires,”

Maggie stays quiet, not knowing what to reply to that. Because she knows how Alex can get if you push her too much, so she gets it. She just wishes she knew, so maybe she could get some closure and move on. 

“I miss her,” Maggie says, tears slowly slipping down her cheeks. 

“I know, sweetheart,” Eliza says and Maggie wishes she could hug her.

Maggie sighs, “I just – I thought she was _it_ , you know? I could see the rest of my life with her. I still can,” 

Eliza doesn't say anything. Just patiently waits for Maggie to talk, because it's the first time in forever that Maggie willingly talks about it, willingly talks about how she's feeling. 

“And she,” she sighs, wipes her cheeks, “she wants to have kids. Which, you know, is okay. I just – I've never seen myself have them. And I never got used to the idea. So these past few months I kept thinking about it and I just – why did she leave?” 

“Sweetie,” Eliza mutters, trying to soothe her through the phone, “can I ask you something?” 

“Hmm,” 

“Why don't you want kids?” Eliza's voice is soft and careful, “Is it because of your parents?” 

Maggie sighs and shrugs, only then realizing Eliza can't see her, “I – I don't know. I just, I never gave the idea much thought, you know? I always thought I'd be the person that's married to her job,” she chuckles sadly, “I never thought I'd find someone like Alex. And she made me better, you know? She made me stronger and she got me to open up more,”

She sighs. 

“But we never talked about kids. She never really mentioned them. And I never asked. So I didn't know. If I had known she wanted them I would've thought about it more, I maybe would've been able to give it a chance,” Maggie says, realizing now, “I was scared. I –,”

“Maggie, honey,” she starts, “maybe you should talk to her about this, instead?” 

Maggie starts shaking her head, “No, it's too late.” 

“Is it?” 

But Maggie doesn't want to think about it. She can't. Because it's too late and Alex is gone. She lost her. And she can't get her back, no matter what. Because Alex wants kids and Maggie does not (she thinks). And there's nothing she can do to change that. 

Because Alex didn't want to try anymore, didn't want to figure something out. See if maybe one of them changed their mind in the long run. See if maybe Maggie could discover all these thoughts with _her_ , instead of all by herself. 

“Thank you for calling me,” Maggie says, ending the conversation at that, “I appreciate it,” 

“Of course, sweetie,” Eliza says, “you're still family,” 

And that's when Maggie shatters. 

 

•••

 

It's like she's doomed. 

Because all of a sudden there's kids _everywhere_. All of her cases magically involve kids. Of all ages. Three year-olds, seven year-olds, fifteen year-olds. It seems like they're all trying to tell her something she doesn't want to know. Not yet. She's not ready to figure that part of herself out, to figure out she even _has_ that part. 

But she can't ignore it. Not when a four year-old is tugging at the hem of her jacket – and has been tugging at said jacket for the past thirty seconds. So she smiles softly at the kid and crouches down so she's eye level. 

“What's up, little guy?” 

She's currently at the precinct and five minutes ago this woman came in with her kid, needing to make a statement about her husband of some sort. Maggie's not quite sure. All she knows is that she's been put on babysit duty until her colleague finishes taking the statement. 

So Maggie keeps herself busy with the little guy. 

“Wanna watch TV,” he says, smile on his face. 

Maggie frowns, “We don't have a TV here, buddy,” 

He sighs. 

“What's your name?” Maggie asks. 

“Matt,” 

Maggie smiles, “Well, Matt, how about I get you some pencils and you can draw something nice for mommy?” 

His eyes light up immediately and he nods, clapping his hands happily. His tiny hand reaches for Maggie's and he happily follows her towards her desk where she puts him on her chair and grabs a piece of paper and some colored pencils she can find. 

She watches him. How he holds the pencil and how he pokes his tongue out of his mouth in concentration. Maggie notices how he smiles at himself after finishing something that's supposed to be a.. Star. She thinks. She's not quite sure. She watches how he switches pencils, because the star (?) needs some coloring. Because green stars obviously need some orange in them. 

Maggie smiles. It's a cute kid. 

For a second she imagines it being _her_ kid at her desk, waiting for her to be done with work. She imagines her kid being a little older, coming here after school so Maggie can drop them off at kick boxing afterwards and then they can grab a bite before heading home towards.. _Alex_. 

It always comes back to Alex. She couldn't see herself be happy – until Alex. She couldn't see herself get married – until Alex. She couldn't see herself being a mom. 

Until Alex. 

Maybe. 

She's not sure. About kids. About anything, really. She feels like her whole life has been a lie, like everything she ever told herself – _you could never be the mom they need, you don't deserve to be happy, Alex is better off without you_ – is false and exactly the opposite of the truth. 

“Maggie?” 

Maggie blinks herself back to the present and fixes her gaze on Matt, “Yes?” 

“I'm thirsty,” 

She smiles, “Do you want some water?” 

He tilts his head for a second and stares at her. Maggie just smiles. She can't help but smile when she looks into his big blue eyes, his lips slightly pouted. 

“You have chocolate milk?” 

And Maggie wishes she did. Because his eyes are big and bright and pleading and his voice is hopeful. But Maggie shakes her head. 

“I'm sorry, buddy,” she says, leaning onto her table so she can be closer to him, “maybe my colleague does, though. He sometimes brings chocolate milk. But then we'd have to wait until he and your mommy get back,” 

He nods, “Okay,” 

“Do you want anything else while we wait?” 

“Water?” he asks, shyly, “please, Maggie,” 

And Maggie obliges, because, _duh_. 

 

••• 

 

She can't stop thinking about it. Especially because she keeps hanging out with children, lately. It's like life is making fun of her, in a way. 

Eliza calls her more, too. She talks to her about it. About kids and maybe wanting them, some day. If it's not too late. Asking if it's not stupid that she changed her mind, that it took her _this_ to change her mind. Eliza tells her it's okay, that her feelings are still valid and that she is allowed to feel like she does. Eliza also tells her to reach out to Alex, to try and talk about it with her. 

Maggie is still not sure. 

She's scared. So scared. 

But she wants to. She wants to call Alex, ask if they can talk. She wants to show up outside Alex's apartment with pizza and beer, throw her one of her speeches again and kiss her. Hopefully. But she knows it's not that easy, she knows life won't grant her another chance like that. Knows she's kind of fucked. 

So Maggie pushes the thought of talking to Alex about it to the back of her head. It's always there, she just tries to not pay any attention to it, because it's not worth it and it wouldn't change anything. Alex is better off without her. 

She thinks. 

That is, until her phone rings at a quarter after one at night. 

She's having a slight deja-vu feeling and her heart skips several beats as she sees the caller ID. Alex. She remembers when she had called Alex all these weeks ago, drunk and crying and lonely. And Alex hadn't reached out to her, didn't even ask if something had happened. How Maggie swore she'd pick up the phone if Alex ever called her in the middle of the night. 

So she does. 

She picks up but she doesn't say anything. Just sits there, breathing with Alex. And when she hears whimpers her heart cracks, as if it's not broken and bruised enough already. 

“Maggie?”

Alex's voice is raspy, as if she's been crying for hours. Maggie doesn't know how to reply. What is she supposed to say? Is she even allowed to say anything? To ask anything? How does this go? Does she ask Alex if something happened? If she's okay? Does she wait for Alex to talk. 

“Maggie, please,” 

Maggie sighs softly, “I – I'm here,” 

“I'm sorry,” she breathes, “for calling. I didn't – I shouldn't –,” 

“Alex,” she says, speaking her name feeling like coming home, “breathe. It's okay,” 

Alex sobs, then, and Maggie just sits there with her phone pressed to her ear. Trying to shush her, to sooth her, to get her to calm down and to get her to breathe. She lets Alex cry into the phone, tries to ignore the tears in her own eyes at hearing the pain of the woman she loves. 

It takes a while for Alex to calm down. A long while. But Maggie doesn't mind. She just sits there, lets her get everything out. She doesn't know if this is what Alex needs, but she's giving it to her anyway. She'd give her everything. Still. 

“I'm sorry,” Alex then says after a few minutes. 

“Don't be,” Maggie says quickly, “it's okay,” 

She can hear Alex's frustrated sigh, “It's not. I shouldn't have called. It's not my place anymore. I just – I didn't know what else to do,”

And Maggie's heart breaks for her. Because Alex has always been surrounded by people who care about her, people she could go to if needed. So for her to feel the need to call Maggie, out of all people, kind of blows her mind. She wants to ask what happened, but knows she has no right. 

“It's okay, Alex, really,” 

“I just – I missed your voice, I guess,” Alex says dreamily, as if she's far away, “I was kind of starting to forget what you sound like,” 

And if Maggie thought she could handle this conversation she's wrong, because hearing Alex talk to her like that does nothing good to her heart or her mind. She wipes her eyes, sniffs, takes a breath. 

“Me, too,” she then says, because she's not sure she can say anything more without letting her voice crack all over the place. 

Alex sighs, “I miss you, Maggie,” 

“I know,” but she doesn't. She doesn't know. Because she hasn't spoken to Alex in what feels like years. She just doesn't know what else to say. She can't tell Alex that she misses her too, she thinks. She can't give in to that, because it's not supposed to be. Not anymore. 

“Do you – Do you miss me?” 

“I –,” Maggie tries to keep her breathing even, to not let Alex know that she's crying, “Of course I do,” 

“I'm sorry,” Alex cries. 

Maggie just sighs, wipes her eyes with the sleeves of her hoodie, “Alex, why did you call?” 

“I don't know,” she admits, “I just, I needed to hear your voice. I don't want to forget your voice, Maggie. I never want to forget anything about you,” 

“But you have to, Alex,” 

“I don't _want_ to,” 

“You don't –,” Maggie stops, takes a break, feeling anger rise inside her body, “You don't get to do this, Alex. You don't get to push me away, _again_ , only to call me in the middle of the night after months telling me you miss me,” 

“But I do. I miss you,” 

“I know,” Maggie exclaims, “but you shouldn't. You _can't_ ,” 

“I just – I thought we could talk, maybe,” 

Maggie scoffs, her eyes burning, just like her chest, “We should've _talked_ months ago,” 

“I know,” 

“But you gave up on us,” Maggie bites, “on _me_ ,”

“Maggie, _please_ ,” Alex begs. 

Maggie's not sure why she's begging. She's not sure she cares at this point, because all she feels is anger and betrayal. Maggie has tried so hard to keep her longing for Alex inside, to not give into it. And now that Alex misses her she just reaches out? Like it's nothing? Like it doesn't tear Maggie apart to just hear her voice? 

“I shouldn't have – I was wrong, Maggie,” 

Maggie shakes her head, “I can't have this conversation with you right now, Alex,” she mutters, trying to stop her whole body from shaking, “I have to go. I'm sorry, I – I can't,” 

“Maggie, wait, please,” 

But she hangs up. 

 

•••

 

Maggie wakes up to three messages from Alex and a missed call from Eliza that she missed by forty minutes. She sighs, plucks the charger out of her phone and rolls over onto her other side as she reads Alex's messages. 

**Alex [2:24 AM]:** I jstu want to talk Maggie I can't stop thinkgin abuot you

And that's when she realizes that Alex was most likely drunk. Which explains the sudden call. She sighs. 

**Alex [9:01 AM]:** I'm sorry. It got a little out of hand last night and I didn't mean to call you. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way, Maggie. 

**Alex [9:08 AM]:** But I do mean what I said. I miss you and if you're up for it I would like to talk to you. I know you don't owe me anything, especially after everything, but I've been talking to my mom more and I feel like we should talk about.. things. Please. 

Maggie sighs. She's not sure what she's supposed to do now. 

 

•• 

 

It takes three days, but Maggie takes the bait. 

She agrees to meet Alex for coffee at Noonan's, somewhere on neutral ground where either of them can just walk away if it gets too much. Maggie fears it might be her that walks out first. But she wants to try. She may not owe it to Alex, but she at least owes it to herself to be honest with her. Because, honestly, of course she misses Alex and of course she wants to be with her. 

And, yes, she may have changed her mind about kids – maybe not quite, not fully – but she's given it thought and she's imagined having kids _with Alex_ and it doesn't sound too bad. It doesn't sound as scary as it did when she used to think about it before she met Alex. Because, she's pretty sure if she had to do anything like this, raising kids and starting a family, Alex is the only person she could see herself with.

So that's why she's twenty minutes early, sipping from her cup of coffee that's still way too hot. She just needed something to keep herself busy with while she waited. 

Maggie decided to go sit at their usual table, not knowing if it'd be inappropriate or not. But she doesn't really care, because if she's going to do this she better do it at a table she's comfortable with. She kind of sounds like an idiot, but it's something about this table that makes her feel more at ease. As if everything is just like it used to be, or will be. 

Her heart is racing in her chest, Maggie notices as she stares at Noonan's front door, scanning everyone who walks in at this random hour of the day. It's Maggie's day off so Alex said she'd figure it out with J'onn so she could make it whenever Maggie had the time. 

So now it's nearly four o'clock in the afternoon and Maggie feels like she's about to pass out. She hasn't seen Alex in months, has only spoken to her once. Three days ago. And now they're about to go get coffee. She realizes it may be too soon. Realizes they should've kept to talking through texts first, at least, for a little while. Not immediately go out for coffee and.. see each other. 

But they never really did anything according to how they're supposed to, right? They always went a little fast. Not that they weren't comfortable with it – not at all – just.. fast. Maggie never thought that was a bad thing. Now she might change her mind on that. 

She should go. She still has ten minutes until Alex is supposed to get here, because God knows she's always five minutes early, so she still has the time. She could just leave her cup of coffee and flee, like she's good at. She could walk away and never look back and never talk to Alex again. Tell her something came up, tell her it's a bad idea, that she can't do it. 

But she doesn't. 

Maggie stays seated, her left leg bouncing anxiously, waiting for Alex to walk in. Her fingers drumming against the side of her cup. She doesn't even bother drinking, just lets her coffee cool. She'll get herself a new one. Maggie wonders if she should order for Alex, too, or just wait until Alex gets here and order together. 

_Fuck it_ , she thinks as she gets up. It doesn't take too long for her to get the the cash register, because – _bless_ – there's barely any people on a random Thursday. So she orders herself another coffee, with honey, and gets Alex something as well. Black, two sugars. And a biscuit, because Maggie knows she loves those. 

It takes a few minutes to prepare their coffees and Maggie can't help but glance over her shoulder every time the bell at the door chimes. It's never Alex who walks in, though, and Maggie's not sure if the sigh she lets out is from disappointment or relief. 

The barista gives her both coffees and Maggie pays and smiles quickly, before spinning on her heel and walking back towards her – their – table. It's nearing 4 PM now and if she has to wait for Alex to arrive any longer she might actually combust. Maggie puts the coffees down on the table and sits, her eyes never leaving the door. 

It isn't until she sees that familiar shade of red hair that her heart seems to settle, her leg seems to stop bouncing and her smile seems a little more real. The bell at the door chimes and this time the sigh Maggie lets out is pure relief, but she can't help it. Alex actually showed up. 

Their eyes meet from all across the room and Maggie sees how Alex's shoulders relax, how her whole body seems to soften, how her smile seems to brighten. She can't help but smile back. It's always been an automatic response to smile back at Alex. Maggie forgets all about her worries, about how she doesn't even know if she can hold a simple conversation with Alex. Because Alex is walking over to her and she's smiling and – wait, how do they greet each other? A hand shake? A hug? Nothing? 

“Hey,” Alex breathes, looking Maggie up and down. 

Maggie follows suit, noticing Alex still wears her skinny jeans with the boots. She did switch her sweaters for button ups, together with her leather jacket, and she's never looked better. Maggie's at a loss for words. But she manages. 

“Hi,” she mutters, before glancing towards the table, “I, uh, I got you something already. Two sugars.”

When she looks back up into Alex's eyes she bites her lip, noticing the appreciation in her eyes. Alex's gaze screams something like _you remembered_ and Maggie can't really deal with something this heavy. So she averts her gaze and knots her fingers together on the table before her. 

“Thank you,” Alex says, softly, “You didn't have to,”

“I know, I know,” 

They fall silent for a few minutes after that. Maggie tries to adjust, to get comfortable, to breathe. But it's hard when the love of your life, and your ex-fiancée, is sitting right in front of you after eleven months and twenty-one days. Maggie doesn't even bother to think about the hours and the minutes and the seconds, knowing damn well she'd probably succeed in getting them right. 

“So, how have you been?” Maggie asks, then. She doesn't know where they should start, doesn't know how this conversation is supposed to go. Doesn't even know what they're going to talk about, really. 

Alex sighs. “I – Do you want the sugarcoated version or the actual version?” 

Maggie hesitates, not knowing she can _handle_ the real version. But she feels like she owes Alex this much, to just listen and let her tell her part. Because she has no idea how Alex has dealt with any of it, just knows that Alex only did what she thought was the best for both of them. 

So she settles with, “Whatever version you want to tell me,” 

Alex nods, bites the inside of her cheek for a second. She can't get herself to look at Maggie, so she fixates her gaze on her hands tightly wrapped around her cup of coffee. 

“I, uh, it's been hard. I mean, I, I don't know,” she sighs, rubs her hand over her face, “everything at the DEO seems like it has doubled. The attacks, the missions, just, everything. At least Kara seems to be doing well. She's dating Lena now, finally,” 

Maggie can't help but laugh softly, “They finally figured it out?” 

Alex nods. “Yeah, they did,” 

“That's good,” Maggie says, “I'm happy for them,” 

Alex nods again, not really saying anything. She sips her coffee, her eyes trained on Maggie's face and Maggie isn't sure what to do now. She's really not sure how they're supposed to go from here, what the whole deal with this conversation is. 

“Kara's a smart kid,” Alex says, then, as she puts her coffee back down on the table, “she's always – she always says the right things, you know? She knows me so well. She's always known me well.” 

It's Maggie's time to nod, now. She knows Alex is going somewhere with this. She's not sure where, but she's sure it has a point. So she doesn't say anything and just waits for Alex to go on, waits for her to talk and tell her what's on her mind. 

“You, uh, remember that night I,” she stops talking then, clenches her eyes shut, takes a deep breath before looking at Maggie again, “do you remember that night I proposed?” 

Maggie flinches. Of course she does. She can't remember anything else. The way Alex was looking at her, her eyes pleading, begging. Her voice soft, hopeful, scared. How her one hand was wrapped around Maggie's shoulder, the other tangled with her own. 

Maggie can't get the words out, so she just nods and turns her head to the side. She can't look at Alex, not without wanting to cry. Not with where this conversation is going. 

“Kara, she – we talked, before you came up to me, as you probably know. She, uh, she said something that stuck with me, something I've been beating myself up over. Because I did exactly what she told me not to do,” 

Frowning, Maggie looks back at her, their eyes meeting. “What?” 

“She told me to never let you go,” 

Maggie's heart stops beating in her chest. She can't believe how casually Alex can say this, now. She can't believe it's not tearing her to pieces while she's sitting there, looking at Maggie, looking at the woman she was supposed to marry. The woman she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with. 

Maggie can't breathe. Her chest feels tight and her hands are shaking and her sight is getting blurry, which is bullshit if you ask her, because now is not the time to cry. They're in public and she hasn't seen Alex in ages and they're supposed to _talk_. 

She clears her throat and blinks a few times, tries to get herself together, “Where are you going with this?”

Alex sighs, “I don't know, Maggie, I'm just – I've been stupid and I just,” 

But Maggie interrupts her. 

“Stop it,” she says, voice firm, “you're talking about this like you chose game night over date night. You ended an _engagement_ , Alex. Our wedding was supposed to be over three months ago.” 

Alex averts her gaze. She looks so small and in a way it makes Maggie feel bad, but it also makes her feel better, because she's been hurting ever since Alex broke up with her and she's never been able to get anything out. Fair enough, she could talk to Eliza about it. But being able to tell Alex, to show Alex how much she's still hurting, it feels like she can finally start to heal. Maybe it feels like closure, in a way. 

“I know,” 

“Why are we even here, Alex?” Maggie asks, “Why are we doing this? Because I don't know how you can sit there, telling me all these things and not be falling apart,” 

“I – I'm not okay, Maggie. I know it's my fault and I chose to let you go, but I –,”

“Yeah, you did.” Maggie says, voice sharp. She can't help the anger she feels, the betrayal. She's trying to not let her feelings get to her, but it's so hard when the reason for all her pain is sitting right across from her like she's not breaking Maggie's heart all over again.

“I know,” Alex says, “and I'm not here to ask anything from you, I promise. I just thought we could talk. Because I miss you, Maggie. And I've tried to live my life without you in it, because you deserve better than that. You deserve better than me still wanting to be in your life after everything I put you through,” she sighs, “but for once in my life I'm being selfish and I'm here and I'm telling you that I miss you,” 

Maggie doesn't know what to say. She really doesn't. So she just keeps looking at Alex as if she's the biggest mystery she's trying to figure out, her eyes narrowed just slightly as she stares at her. 

“And I really – I don't need anything more than to just talk to you. I'm not asking to be friends or, or, _anything_. I just, I want to know how you're doing. From time to time.” 

Maggie scoffs at that. “What about what I need?”

“What do you mean?” 

Maggie straightens her back, tries to seem taller, bigger, more confident. Tries not to let Alex see how insecure she really is, how small she feels under the redhead's gaze, how much it's torturing her to be here. 

“You're talking about you _needing_ this, needing to know how I am. About you needing to tell me you miss me,” she waits until Alex nods, just barely, “what about me? Do you even care about what I need?” 

“Of course I do, Maggie, I –,” 

“Do you? Did you even consider me when you drunk dialed me? Did you think about that time I called you in the middle of the night, because I couldn't take it anymore, but you didn't even bother to check up on me?” 

Alex's eyes widen, her jaw dropping just a little. Maggie knows she hit the right nerve, now. Knows Alex understands now, hopefully. Or at least a little more than before. 

“Did you know that I didn't even hesitate to pick up when you called me? Because I promised myself I would still be there for you. And I was. I _am_. But you – you couldn't even send me a text asking if everything was okay. And that _hurt_ , Alex.” 

“I'm – I'm sorry, Maggie. I didn't know,” 

Maggie rolls her eyes, laughs humorlessly, “Of course you didn't. So, let me ask that again, what about what _I_ need?” 

It's quiet for a long few minutes, until Alex looks at her, eyes teary, “What _do_ you need?” 

She knows Alex is asking genuinely. And now that she's being asked she's not sure she has the answer. A few months ago her answer would've been _you, Alex_. But now? What does she need? Time? Space? Alex, still? She doesn't know. 

“I don't even know,” 

“Do you need me to stay away from you?” 

Maggie shrugs half-heartedly, “If you'd asked me this months ago I would've told you I just need _you_ , but I – I'm not sure I do, anymore. I mean, part of me always will, you know? But I've been on my own for so long, so many times before, and I just don't think I need anything, anymore,”

Alex sighs, her voice breathy, as if she's on the verge of crying. 

“Alex,” Maggie breathes as she reaches across the table, resting the tips of her fingers on Alex's hand, “I will.. _always_ love you. You know that. I'm just not sure I can give you what you want. Or need.” 

And something seems to break inside of Alex, because suddenly she's wiping her eyes with her free hand and she laughs softly. She shrugs, shakes her head, then looks at Maggie as if she's her whole world. 

“I – I came here not expecting anything, you know?” Alex says shyly, “I told myself to not hope for anything, because.. because I don't deserve it. I just – I didn't think it would hurt this much,”

“I'm sorry, Alex,” Maggie says, giving her hand a squeeze, “I just – You kind of jumped this on me. I haven't seen you in so long and now you, what? Want me to start talking to you just like that?” 

Alex shakes her head, “Of course not, Maggie. Like I said, I didn't expect anything,” she sighs, “I didn't expect us to walk out of here and text non-stop, or call every day. I just thought we could, maybe, try. Something.” 

“Try? Did you forget why we broke up?” 

Alex flinches. “Of course not, and I – I haven't changed my mind on that, Maggie, but I just, I, it's not the same without you,” 

“I know,” she whispers, “I feel the same way, Alex. It's just not that easy,” 

“Yeah, you're right,” Alex mutters, pulling her hand back, “I shouldn't have called. This is stupid,” 

“No, Alex,” Maggie says sternly, because she really can't have Alex thinking she made a mistake, “I'm glad you called. I – I missed you, too,” 

“But?” 

Maggie smiles, tilts her head just slightly, “There's no but,” 

“No?” 

“No,” 

Alex sighs, “So now what?” 

Maggie's smile falters, just a little bit, “I don't know,” 

“Okay,” 

“I guess we go from here?” Maggie suggests, carefully. 

She's still not sure this is a good idea, because Alex could change her mind and she could be back at square one. But on the other hand she'd risk anything for Alex, anything to be with Alex. She'd do anything to just have a chance to be in her life again, even if it tears her apart to just look at her. 

“Yeah? Are you sure?”

“I don't know. But you said you miss me.. and I miss you. And it's been hell to not be able to talk to you. And I'm still not sure I can do this, if I can talk to you and pretend like nothing happened –,” 

“We don't have to pretend, Maggie,”

“I know, Alex, but it won't be the same,” Maggie mutters, “it won't be easy. There'll be times where it gets too much for you, or for me. And when that happens we have to _talk_ , okay?” 

“Okay, yeah, we can do that,”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, Maggie,” Alex says, “If you want that,”

Maggie nods. “I do, but I can't promise you anything, Alex,”

“I know, I don't need you to,” 

“Okay,” 

Alex smiles then. “Okay, great,” 

“Yeah,” 

Alex glances down at the table again and chuckles, before she looks back up, “How about I get you another cup of coffee, as a start? Because I'm sure it's gone cold,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come yell at me on Twitter, @poetictasya

**Author's Note:**

> There'll be a part II, don't worry. Sanvers is endgame, always. 
> 
> Come yell at me on Twitter @poetictasya.


End file.
